Bill Brown was
just a working man Iike others of his kind.
He lost his job and tramped the streets when work was hard
to find.
The landlord put him on the stem, the bankers kept his dough,
And Bill heard everybody sing, no matter where he'd go:

CHORUS:
It's a long way down to the soupline,
It's a long way to go.
It's a long way down to the soupline,
And the soup is thin I know.

Good bye, good
old pork chops,
Farewell, beefsteak rare;
It's a long way down to the soupline,
But my soup is there.
So Bill and sixteen million men responded to the call
To force the hours of labor down and thus make jobs for all.
They picketed the industries and won the four-hour day
And organized a General Strike so men don't have to say:

The workers own the factories now, where jobs were once destroyed
By big machines that filled the world with hungry unemployed.
They all own homes, they're living well, they're happy, free
and strong,
But millionaires wear overalls and sing this little song: